Six Word Memoir Never find yourself before losing.
Word Photo: Bareback It’s a rolling sea of green with glints of amber shining in the sun. The prairie, landlocked by the endless farmland outside its borders. This land is sacred. The Spirit moves in the wind, the same wind that rushes through his raven hair—hair that is unbridled and free like the stallion beneath him. They race together in a thundering gallop, stolen from a time long past; a lonely stampede toward days unknown.
Six Word Memoir
Never find yourself before losing.
Word Photo: Bareback
It’s a rolling sea of green with glints of amber shining in the sun. The prairie, landlocked by the endless farmland outside its borders. This land is sacred. The Spirit moves in the wind, the same wind that rushes through his raven hair—hair that is unbridled and free like the stallion beneath him. They race together in a thundering gallop, stolen from a time long past; a lonely stampede toward days unknown.